Surprise!
by forgetmenotjimmy
Summary: Draco gets the surprise of his life when he is stopped by a policeman only to see someone he thought he'd lost for good. How will they further surprise him? And can he keep hold of them this time?
1. Surprise!

Chapter 1 – Surprise!

Draco Malfoy ran. Ignoring the protests of angry passers-by he bumped into he went on, sharp eyes latched on to the dodging figure shooting through the crowded street; his muscles pumped furiously. The blonde-haired man gritted his teeth and sprinted round a corner when suddenly an explosion made him cast a protection spell, quick as lightening. Ducking down and trying to suppress a dry cough from the smoke and debris he felt growing frustration at the crowd of panicking muggles and the burning hatred towards the fugitive; the things he had done, the people he had hurt and the lengths he had gone to whilst running from the law. Draco snarled, blinking furiously as he was temporarily blinded and hearing shouting from everywhere him. He wasn't an Auror, he shouldn't even be hunting this evil piece of-

"Oi! You! Stop!" The shouting grew louder and without looking he knew that the voice belonged to someone in authority, probably one of those muggle aurors. Fantastic! He'd have to take this guy down if he persisted in getting involved. Cursing he bent down as he ran on and finally broke through the smoke and panic; he turned another corner and found himself in an alleyway. Snapping into action as soon as he spotted the assailant he cast a binding spell that narrowly missed. The crazed Death Eater turned and launched the killing curse; Draco flung himself onto the floor whilst countering with a stunning spell aimed at the man's feet. Rolling to take cover behind a dustbin, unable to see if he'd hit his target, the blonde heard that voice again and inwardly groaned.

"You, drop it!" Swivelling sharply, wand drawn ready to stun him, Draco saw quickly that the muggle wasn't talking to him but the Death Eater! He was going to be killed! A sharp flick of his wand sent the muggle flying to the side as a rush of green shot past him, hitting another… Draco froze; he hadn't even seen the other muggle auror approach. The man lay still on his back and looking away, the blond saw the man he'd saved staring in horror at his fallen friend but thankfully staying put under cover. This was the reason he was chasing this guy, trying to bring him in quickly because the stupid Aurors couldn't do their jobs properly, because when they were faffing around with protocol stuff like this happened.

A crack pulled Draco back from his frustrated rant and he jumped up wand raised to find an empty alleyway. Oh! For Mer-

"Hands up!" This day couldn't get any worse. Sighing, the blond turned back to the surviving muggle auror, a pollyman?, and quickly eyeing up the black and white uniform complete with chunky helmet, the crouched stance and raised black death thing, Draco flicked his wand again the muggle weapon was ripped out of the man's hand. Ignoring his startled cry and the dead body in the middle of the alleyway he walked over to the… man, and felt a spark of amusement as he began to frantically pull at something on his shoulder. It looked like a little black box and the man was shouting into it. Draco, residual anger at the escape of the Death Eater persisting, set it on fire and the muggle yelled as it began melting quickly, drawing back his fingers away from it and hissing in pain. Not completely sadistic, the wizard put out the fire and severed the communication device from the vest and it slid, still boiling, onto the floor. But the man wasn't done yet; the Slytherin had to hold back a laugh as he drew a thick black stick from his belt and held it out as if a wand. These muggles wanted to be magic so much and they didn't even know it. The baton went the same way as the gun; then Draco's wand was at the man's neck and he instinctively shrunk away from it. The wizard knew he wasn't going to hurt the stupid muggle but he wanted to savour a few more moments of panic in the man's eyes…

Wait. He knew those eyes. The blue orbs dark with fear, fear he'd seen there plenty of times. Ice flooded him and he was completely paralyzed. He didn't need to take in the freckles, the red hair sticking out from under the helmet, the long gangly limbs. It struck him suddenly; he was pinning a defenceless Ronald Weasley to an alley wall.

The day had suddenly gotten a lot better.


	2. Wait, what?

Chapter 2 – Wait, what?

Unable to register anything external for a few moments, Draco Malfoy stood still, wand hovering inches away from Ronald Weasley's neck.

What?

His mind began to whirl. This couldn't be Weasley, he was dead. Well, pronounced legally dead by a court, his body had never been… Stepping back slightly and eyes scanning the quivering figure, he tried to search for differences. Long legs, strong thighs, the body perhaps a bit bulkier because of the thick vest, pale skin on his long fingered hands clutching the wall, small splashes of brown over his nose and cheeks, those blazing, intense eyes… No. From the big feet to the stupid expression on his face he was the very same-

Draco thrust his wand back into the faux-muggle's neck as he recognised the look on those widened eyes, the weasel had been about to make a run for it. Upper lip curling in an expression he assumed almost nostalgically, he forced himself to remain in control. The situation came back to him. He was in a muggle street with one dead muggle and another who had the potential to draw out a wand suddenly from that ridiculous costume he was wearing. The blonde muttered a paralysing spell and stepped away to examine the dead muggle, who might not be a muggle if his partner was masquerading as one.

Quickly checking the dead man's pockets and looking over the badge, he concluded that it was indeed a muggle, no sign of magic whatsoever. Sighing, he rubbed his forehead roughly as he stared down at the lifeless eyes, something like pity fizzling in his chest. But then a confused whine came from behind him and a small part of him, the schoolboy part of him, took a moment to enjoy his old enemy unmoving but obviously trying to struggling against his spell, all with a priceless expression on his face. Draco almost drank in the anger mixed with well, strangely it wasn't quite fear that darkly tinted the fiercely blue eyes. Staring, he tried to place that emotion; all that moved on the red-head's face was the mouth was twisting with effort as he panted a little. A grin stretched itself over the Slytherin's face, a dark thrill in his gut. Finally, after all of their fights and encounters at school he had the upper hand! Little weasel was helpless and completely at his mercy.

But even as his stomach inflated a little with petty glee, and something else he was trying to ignore, it sunk dramatically as again he pulled himself away from his old fantasy. There were several things he had to consider: first, the Ministry would have dispatched a squad to clean up the mess, they were probably in the street now dealing with the damage and the muggles who had seen too much; second, the Death Eater had escaped with no clue as to where he'd disapparated to and lastly, that struggling man. Captured by vengeful Death Eaters mere weeks after the end of the War, vanished without a trace and presumed dead for almost four years, apparently suffering from memory loss but still able to tell any Auror exactly what he looked like, there were only two options: obliviate him or…

Hearing footsteps from around the corner, Draco panicked and lunging, grabbed the lost man tightly as he disapparated them away.


	3. What To Do With Old Feelings

Perhaps I should mention at this point that there will be some eventual slash, though I won't say between whom!, moderate language, violence and mention of torture – Ron did have quite a rough time of it I'm afraid – but nothing to push the rating up to M, at the moment… Anyway, enjoy!

Chapter 3 – What To Do With Old Feelings

Very glad that he lived alone without even a house elf, Draco half-levitated half-dragged Ron's still paralyzed body into his stylish town flat. Sweating a little, both from the escape and the general situation he was in, he wiped his brow, closing the door and re-setting the protective charms. Glancing at the prone figure he'd just propped up against the hallway wall he saw that those darkened eyes were now closed. Had the pathetic creature passed out? But no, stepping forward a little Draco could hear irregular breathing and see the eyelids flickering slightly; he had the impression that if he were to remove the spell the man would have stayed still, trembling from fear. But this time the sneering schoolboy in his head was interrupted by another voice, reasoning that had his memory been erased, his knowledge of magic removed, had he then been attacked by something he couldn't explain and then had to go through the disorientating experience of apparition, he may not be in a better state.

He was almost certain that the weasel's memory had been tampered with, there had been no concrete recognition in those eyes, though he had seen a flash of something like contempt over those strong features; and even if Weasley had managed to be able cover recognising him there was no way he would failed to draw his wand in that situation…he'd looked so confused at the spells…. Sighing, the Slytherin levitated the man over to the sofa, removed the spell and pushed the trembling figure down onto it. Seemingly lost in shock, the muggle auror simply sat, a shaking hand pressed to his forehead. The standing wizard paused for a moment before casting a containment spell ensuring the man couldn't move from the sofa should he regain his senses and began making himself a coffee; he felt like they both needed something stronger but it was still early afternoon and Draco knew he might need to keep his wits about him for a while anyway. So much considering, planning and just thinking to do, he tried to blink out of an overwhelming panic. What was he going to do? So many things could have gone wrong, had he left any evidence, were there any witnesses? He had been warned about his vigilante justice before; if you're not an Auror you can't take down suspects, the same immunity from collateral damage didn't apply. Gritting his teeth, he just couldn't bring himself to give up though, the scum needed to be brought down, preferably by his hand.

First things first, what to do about his unwelcome guest? Turning to look at the other man, he analysed everything he could see. The muggle auror was wearing black shoes, black trousers, a bulky black utility belt with several pouch-like things and some handcuffs – for some inexplicable reason when Draco saw those he felt a pleasant twinge in his… – a long-sleeved white shirt under a thick black vest with the word: POLICE stitched on the right side. Oh, _police_man! That must be it. He had removed the helmet at some point as his fiery hair was now free, as messy as ever… He was holding the helmet in one slack hand, resting in his lap, the other hand curled lifelessly next to it. Draco felt a sharp pinch in his stomach as he saw the burns on the fingers and he looked at place where the communication device had been on his right shoulder; there were some remains of what looked like black plastic but no signs that it had burnt through to skin, still, he'd have to see to those fingers.

But it wasn't just the physical hurt. This man, no matter who he had been to Draco in the past, had been – the Slytherin shifted uncomfortably whilst searching for the word – messed with. It wasn't his job to sort him out but he had to at least deliver him to people who could. Looking at the stunned face, something else stirred within him. Pity was there definitely, he had always felt a little pity for the poor weasel. Born and raised in that…family, and always overshadowed by every one of his friends, well, maybe except Longbottom. But there was something else as well; something he didn't want to recognise.

But even as he decided to hand the man over to the Ministry the fear of that place rose up in him. It wasn't that he couldn't go there, he just never wanted to. Even before the war his family hadn't been well liked, the Mark on his arm and his father in jail only worsened matters. Then there had been the whole vigilante business. He had been caught trying to capture a small time con-artist who also sported a Dark Mark and the Department of Magical Law Enforcement hadn't looked too kindly on his good deed. Potter, who was predictably and sickeningly one of the best aurors in the department, had been surprisingly supportive in getting him off with a warning, despite being extra hostile to ex-Death Eaters due to the disappearance of his best friend.

Draco was pulled from his memories as said best friend tried to get up.


	4. Healing The Surface Wounds

Chapter 4 – Healing The Surface Wounds

"You're under arrest for…running from and assaulting a police officer. You do not have to say anything but…but…what the…?" Draco felt a little amused as the red-head leant on and tried to shoulder his way out of the invisible barrier he'd set up around the sofa. He'd started off a little uncertain but had become pretty convincing until he'd realised he couldn't actually arrest him. The Slytherin had also noticed that he had paused whilst considering what his crime actually had been; as if not sure what the muggle law said about causing flames and invisible barriers. Still, this growing frustration from his old enemy was an improvement on shock and fear; he'd obviously shaken off the shock and perhaps he'd recognised Draco enough to know he wasn't in any real danger. He was pulled out of his musings by angry eyes; the policeman had stopped trying to break out and was now glaring heatedly at the wizard. "Let me go." There it was; the authority he'd heard during the chase. For some reason, Draco shivered; there was something about it that was exciting. Snapping out of it he decided that he had a bit of time for some fun. He raised his hands innocently.

"But I'm not doing anything!" The jaw bristling red tightened and those deep, deep blue eyes darkened again, but this time not from fear; again, Draco felt a thrill at his opponent's steely gaze.

"Let me go." If he had worked out that Draco could be influencing the barrier even without pointing his wand at it then either he'd grown a few extra brain cells or his memory must be intact, just buried somewhere in his head. He blinked and looked into the eyes, he registered vaguely that the voice was speaking again. "It is a serious offence to attack and detain a police officer, you could get lengthy prison sentence if you don't cooperate with me now." The Slytherin snorted.

"Oh yes, because you have any power in this situation."

"I have the law on my side! And if you don't let me go right now I might remember things a bit differently." The faux-muggle stood up a little straighter, folding his arms across his chest and staring into the wizard's eyes, who was shaking with silent laughter.

"Blackmail? How very Slytherin of you! My, my weasel I didn't know you had it in you!" Obviously finding some of that speech familiar but unable to work out from where, the red-head stood silently for a minute, eyeing up the blond with a number of emotions flickering across his face. Neither moved. Draco grew hotter and hotter under the other's gaze until he couldn't stand it anymore and walked into the kitchen to cool off; just looking at the red-head still did things to him.

"Hey! Come back here!" But any amusement Draco could get from the shout was lost in the burning inside him. He thought he'd reasoned away all of those feelings a long time ago, teenage hormones, a peculiar type of hate… There was no reason he should get his wires crossed whilst staring down his enemy now; he poured himself some water and heard a heavy sigh from the living room and a creak of the sofa. Sitting down at the kitchen table he sat and tried to think clearly.

A few hours later he sighed and got up reluctantly, he hadn't thought of anything particularly useful. His enemy had been surprisingly quiet and he had suddenly thought that he could have performed some wandless magic from instinct and escaped quietly. Stumbling into the room, wand raised he stared straight at the sofa. Looking down and seeing the man with his head in his hands, he sighed with relief and then frowned as the figure spoke.

"What's happening to me?" The Slytherin clicked his tongue in a habitual, irritated manner.

"What makes you think this is all about you?" But the policeman seemed to be stuck in his own head.

"I think I'm going insane." He lifted his head and bit his bottom lip worriedly. Again, the blond was stilled by the slightest of gestures. He turned and went to fetch his medical kit from next to the drinks cabinet. "All these…images… in my head just…I can't, I can't tell what I'm actually seeing and what I dreamt, what I see in my nightm-"

"Here," he knelt beside the red-head, cutting him off and ignoring the other draw back a little. "Give me your hand." There was a moment of tension, mistrust lingering in those piercing eyes. Trying to be empathetic, Draco waited for his patient to make the first move and eventually, the policeman put his burnt hand in front of the wizard. Due to the way he'd been gripping the thing when it had burnt, the upper palm, tips of the fingers and the side along running from thumb up the index finger were red and sore with burns. The healer cast a cooling spell over the affected areas before rubbing a burn paste over the wounds, trying to ignore how close he was to the old enemy, how the unaffected skin felt against his fingers as he held the hand in place, how he could faintly feel the other man's breath on his scalp. Finally he wound bandages over the paste to protect it, biting his own lip to try and rid his head of the question: why are you doing this by hand? Is it just so you can touch hi…?

Glancing at the clock, he baulked at how late it was, how had the time gone so fast? He went to his drinks cabinet and pulled out a little vial. He didn't know why he kept it hidden in that spot; it wasn't as if anyone was there to be suspicious of the copious amounts of dreamless potion vials he had stashed.

"Here, drink this." The ginger eyed it suspiciously but Draco was tired and had no time for lengthy explanations. "It'll help you sleep just drink it already!" From nowhere, familiarity emerged.

"It won't turn me into a frog or anything will it?" Suppressing a laugh, the blond just gave him a disdainful glare and walked into the bedroom.

A few hours later Draco was still awake, staring at his ceiling, thinking about the mess he was in, the man he was hunting had escaped then there was the man sleeping just in the other room… He sat up and listened for signs of breathing, sure enough he could make out a light snoring and settled back down, not knowing what to think about the red-head actually drinking the potion. Sighing, he tried to sleep.

Meanwhile, deep in the Ministry, Harry Potter sat at his desk desperately trying to stay awake long enough to finish the last of his paperwork. Sighing heavily, he blinked a few times and shook himself; it was late enough as it was, Ginny was going to be furious with him. His door banged open suddenly and he reached for his wand instinctively before he recognised the Head of the Magical Law Enforcement. Standing up immediately his stomach dropped at the situation. The lateness of the hour, the Head's expression and his urgency-

"Emergency case." A file was dropped onto his desk. The file of one of the Death Eaters they were pursuing. "He's struck again. This time in the muggle world, it's all in the report." Another file, Harry opened it and scanned it quickly; an explosion ripping through a building, a few minor injuries in a few muggles; one muggle auror dead, another missing. "This is all they found of the missing one." Harry grimaced as he struggled to recognise the heap of melted plastic.

"So he was exploded or something?" His superior shook his head, still tense. Harry had the terrible feeling that things were about to get a lot worse.

"No, we had it analysed and found no trace of blood or any living tissue, none at the scene either. All evidence suggests that it was burned but removed, we suspect he is still alive." The Boy Who Lived didn't bother asking why that was but looked back in the file and found two muggle pictures. They were ID photos of two police officers. The Head pointed to the one of a brunette and explained that was one who was killed. Harry paused a minute over the face; he had been young and handsome. Sighing, he looked at the other photo and froze.

No, it couldn't be.


	5. Explaining

Chapter 5 – Explaining

Draco sat up as soon as his eyes opened. He was wide awake, alert and tense, as if something had just happened, or was about to… Listening intently, he reached for the wand under his pillow slowly and without even breathing. Nothing moved, no sound came from anywhere in the flat. But something must have woken him up. No sound…No breathing! Leaping out of bed, fearful caution replaced by a different fear, he raced into the living room to see the sofa empty. How had he escaped? He waved his wand over the front door, all his wards were still in place, none of the windows had been touched. No signs of a struggle. Heart hammering violently against his breast bone, he listened, tenser than he'd ever been. Casting a revealing spell he twitched his mouth with tentative hope as he saw a heat signal coming from the bathroom; someone was in there.

Bounding into the room, he sighed with relief as he saw the startled policeman, slightly more stubbly than the night before, clothes a little messier and his hair…That glorious hair, fiery strands sticking up like tongues of flame; the morning sun was coming through the open window he was hallway through and it lit that hair up, made it shine. He caught the weasel's wrist with a rope from his wand and dragged him yelling onto the bathroom floor. Closing the window and re-setting the broken wards he breathed heavily before turning on the figure crawling out of the room with one hand, the other clutched to his chest. Draco stopped him with a mutter and ignored the half-whine that escaped.

"I am protecting you, you idiot!" The man pinned on the floor didn't reply and the wizard sighed. "Just let me explain, then you can leave if you want." After wincing a bit more at his still healing hand, a small nod settled the tension a bit; he lowered his wand and, though still angry at being frightened like that, motioned with his head for the other to follow.

He had forgotten how much that boy could eat! Just watching the ginger stuffing his face with everything he could reach brought back memories of slyly staring across the Great Hall at breakfast, lunch and dinner, watching. Focusing on those full lips pressing and parting, getting covered in meat juices, bit of potato and smears of sauce; he used to lick his own unconsciously, contemplating covering the Gryffindor's mouth with his own before he shook himself and turned back to his less intriguing friends. Now, he watched this man; the same, but different. It was the same body, if bigger and just, the blond almost blushed, more manly; the face was the same as well, those features so well known to the observer. But the way he held himself was different. Despite his ignorance to his past, this Ron was more confident in himself; perhaps it was because he couldn't remember that his belief in himself was stronger. He had no history, the reason he'd been so under-confident in the first place was absent and because he'd had to carve out a new life, he'd had to start from scratch to build a new role in society making him reliant on himself. Draco wasn't sure what to think of this version of his old enemy; it was an improvement, but he had never considered that Ron had needed to change. What was he thinking? The weasel had been a gormless moron who talked and ate too much, of course this was better!

Sighing, he launched into as best an explanation of magic and the magical world as he could give, carefully watching the other for any reaction. After he was done, the red-head took a few minutes to respond.

"You're a wizard." The deadpan, almost sarcastic tone didn't bode well. He waited for the inevitable snort of laughter but none came. There was only that face; that expression stuck between lost and found. "Why doesn't that sound ridiculous?"

"Because you already knew, you just didn't…know."

"And what am I?" What an interesting question. He supposed he should tell the man everything but he wasn't sure. He didn't know how much to reveal and definitely didn't want to have to obliviate the man later on; he's suffered enough of that. So he simply said.

"I don't know." The muggle-wizard narrowed his eyes momentarily before he nodded as if expecting that answer, only looking a little annoyed at being left in his confusion. They sat for a time in silence; the red-head dug his thumbnail into the table and scratched it a little whilst Draco watched him without irritation at this treatment of his table.

"So that other man, wizard, that other wizard with you…" Burning hate reared inside him at the mere mention of that, that...

"He wasn't _with _me! I would never be associated with scum like him!" The confused raised his hands in surrender.

"Ok! So that bloke, why were you chasing him?"

"Because he's a Death… he's very dangerous." Those delicious lips twitched.

"More dangerous than you?" The protector was in no mood.

"I mean it! He could come after you now so if you ever see him again you run, do you understand?" The slightly amused half-grinned at the exasperated, but held up his hands again quickly in the face of another tirade of angered orders.

"Fine! Fine, I'll run ok?" Then there was a shared look, a little smirk playing on both of their mouths as eyes shined at each other before Draco coughed and they looked away. The weasel's eyes had been the lightest he'd seen them in four years. What a long time it had been.

Harry growled. It was like being transported back four years, or being at Hogwarts during the aftermath of another Daily Prophet article about him, the whispers were back. Gritting his teeth he kept his head down trying to ignore the looks until he reached the safety of his office. Everyone he'd asked to be there was; a nervous Hermione ripping up a tissue, Ginny tapping her foot with barely contained fury and Mr Weasley muttering to a dazed looking Percy.

Haltingly, Harry explained everything and waited.

"So…he's still missing then?" Ginny ventured, shaking, emotion threatening to leap out of her already agitated chest. Harry put his hands up, fully expecting this reaction.

"Yes but now we know more; he's been living in the muggle world so obviously had his memory tampered with-"

"Poor Ron, he must have been so lost…" Hermione half-whispered almost tragically as Percy put a trembling hand to his forehead and Arthur cut in quickly as Ginny looked about to explode.

"Now's not the time for pity, we need to act now!" Everyone nodded and Harry gulped, every reaction reinforcing the reality of the situation. Percy finally spoke, voice stronger than he looked.

"Agreed."


	6. Leo and Michelle

Chapter 6 – Leo

"Well, the only thing for it is for me to take you to Diagon Alley, you should be able to find someone there to take you to the Ministry." Unable to tell if that suggestion was a generous one, the policeman narrowed his eyes suspiciously at the wizard before asking.

"Where's that?" After listening to Draco's brief explanation he nodded slowly. "Ok, I suppose that sounds reasonable." Breathing out thankfully, the blond went on a little cautiously.

"Good, I'll take you to Diagon Alley but on one condition."

"Yeah, yeah I know, you never want to see me again-"

"No!" He said it too quickly and they both knew it. "I mean, you don't tell anyone that it was me that helped you out. In fact, you don't mention me at all." Although he nodded in agreement, the red-head's eyes sparkled mischievously.

"Have you done something you shouldn't have?" Forcing an angry retort down, Draco merely gave the cheeky one a disdainful look and suggested sharply that they get a move on. "Ok, but wait, can I swing by my place first?" Snorting breathily at the look he received from the blond, he continued. "I just want to pick up some stuff." Sighing dramatically, the blond conceded, though secretly he did want to see where the red-head had been living.

He had to admit he was pleasantly surprised when they entered the flat, it wasn't bad. He had expected some dingy room with mess everywhere and dirty walls but this was, quite, different. There were big windows at the other end of the big open plan room which lit up the nicely furnished room; cream walls and light brown carpet helped make the reasonably sized room seem bigger and Draco even saw some pictures on the walls. Although there were a few books and papers arranged messily on the desk next to a modestly filled bookshelf and a cup or two on the desk and coffee table, the rest of the room was quite tidy and clean. Walking to the kitchen towards the back of the space, he saw a few dishes in the sink but the rest of the surfaces were relatively clear of mess. The Slytherin looked at the suddenly awkward red-head, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Erm, do you want a drink or something?" Ignoring the warm feeling spreading in his stomach, the Slytherin let habit take over the confusion growing inside him.

"I'm not here for _tea_, just get your things and let's get moving."

"Alright keep your hair on!" Another flash of his past self; Draco waited eagerly for more but instead received a loud and breathy sigh as the policeman walked over to the desk, shuffling papers around, looking for something. Fidgeting with his hands, the Slytherin turned around and walked up to the sink to try and guess what dishes the stains on the soaking plates had been. Seeing a large, relatively clean pan with a smaller one where a sauce, possibly Bolognese, had left a thin line along the top of the side, he sniffed in a snobby manner as he peered around at the cupboards which had panes of clear glass that revealed the contents. They were all cluttered with tinned vegetables, pasta, a few half empty packs of spices and other items he'd thought it beyond the weasel to own yet alone use. In another cupboard were some decently patterned plates, cups and a large mug that read: World's Best Boyfriend. His stomach squirmed at the thought. No, it can't be from someone, weasel probably bought it for himself out of some desperate attempt to make himself feel less pathetic. He sighed; even the schoolboy in him didn't believe that. Trying to put it out of his mind he turned to tell the stupid muggle-lover to hurry up when he found an empty room. The door to the bathroom was wide open obviously empty, and the one to the bedroom ajar, striding over to it more hurriedly than he should have and burst in, almost hitting the man who was at the dresser just behind the door, halfway through pulling off his police vest.

"Hey! Do you mind?" Forcing down a blush he folded his arms across his chest and retorted.

"It's your fault for disappearing like that!" Draco felt joy as he saw some of what he'd missed, more than he had even know; that glorious fire!

"I didn't disappear I came in here! Now are you going to leave or do you want to watch me get changed?" The blond bit back his order to hurry up or an embarrassing request, held his hands up and backed out of the room as the red-head snorted and began looking for some clean clothes in the big dresser.

Unable to resist, Draco looked anyway, standing a little away from the door, using the well placed mirror on the wall opposite him. Ron's bare legs made his knees suddenly weak. Those pale limbs with a light covering of ginger hairs, slim but sinuous and rippling with untold power, especially his built thighs- Stop looking! But the blond's eyes wouldn't listen to that panicky voice in his head, especially when the object of his desire bent over to pull the fresh trousers on. No! The brain finally managed to take back control. Don't even think about grabbing that firm- He had to look back and was mildly disappointed to see the other man had already put on some jeans, but his mouth twitched as the shirt came off to reveal a tight, white T-shirt underneath. Every inch of him was outlined; he could trace every well-defined muscle, the shoulder blades jutted out just the right distance and the broadness of his back, took Draco's breath away. But he frowned at the faint burn marks he spotted on the left forearm, he hadn't thought about the damage the Death Eaters would have done to him. He had to stifle a gasp as the T-shirt came off. If he thought the damage to Ron's arms was bad…Thin, long scars snaked across his back, four perfectly straight lines bisecting each other in a cross looked like sectumsempra marks whilst the others… drawn with a knife. His eyes suddenly burned as the man turned around, T-shirt in hand, and he saw letters across his chest. They'd carved that hateful name into his soft and milky skin.

_Blood traitor._

"You looked." Startled and ashamed and full of pity and guilt, Draco saw those eyes staring at him through the reflection before jumping away from the door and blurting irrationally.

"No I didn't! You couldn't see me, you don't know!" There was a small silence as the scarred finished pulling on a bright orange T-shirt and then came to the door, now looking straight into the guilty and pitying eyes, a strange look in his own as he whispered.

"It's the only clue I have, and it doesn't make any sense." He breathed, building himself up to an important question, before asking softly with a mixture of hope and dread: "Does it mean anything to you?" Hesitating, the ex-Death Eater thought long and hard; what did it mean to him? Memories rushed around his head and the blood traitor took his silence as an answer and turned back into his room, sitting on his bed to pull on some fairly new trainers. Draco shuffled a little as he waited, feeling sick. Those cuts hadn't been clean, some of the ends of the letters shaky, like he'd been struggling-

"Right." He had to snap himself out of it. "So our next move should be to-"There was a knock on the front door. The two men shared a look. Tense, Malfoy nodded jerkily and the two moved towards it, ready for anything. Clutching his wand, the blond stood next to the door, ready to blast anyone who leapt through it whilst Ron breathed a few times and reached out. He opened it with a big swing and saw the person behind it.

"Michelle!" Draco took the relieved call as a hint and retreated into the bedroom; he heard the front door close and voices. But strangely, although the walls were quite thin, he couldn't make out what the pair was saying. The mirror was useless as Ron was standing in front of the visitor and he didn't dare risk being seen by this strange piece of the red-head's new life. Casting a sound amplifying spell he was surprised when he still had to strain to hear the pair. He had definitely cast it right; frowning, he wondered if perhaps Ron had instinctively managed to form a rough sound barrier to stop Draco from hearing. Children often performed uncontrolled magic when emotional, but that ability stopped after they received their wands, or did it? Then again, he had managed to break through the spell he'd put on the sofa. The Slytherin didn't really know enough about wandless magic to know what the limitations of it were. Shaking his head he cast the spell again, stronger, and managed to pick up a few words.

"…all night…I'm worried, Leo… well I do too..." Draco was taken aback by the heavy French accent and the almost husky quality to it; he had always imagined the weasel's type to be a cheery happy-go-lucky girl next door type, like Lavender Brown but less…intense. All he could hear from Ron were soft apologies and hushing gestures until the French woman sighed and he heard a soft, wet sound; a kiss? Riled and angry suddenly, Draco gritted his teeth as he heard them say goodbye, or 'au revoir', and the door closed.

"Who was that?" He leapt out of the bedroom, eyes burning as he glared at the tired-looking figure. The figure raised an eyebrow at the snap and retorted.

"Why do you care?" Lost in his sudden anger, another piece of betrayal made Draco snap again.

"And who's Leo?" Ron looked at him and replied.

"What does it matter to you? All you want is to get rid of me, so let's get down to it!" Yes, Ron was beginning to emerge; the insecure and fiery boy, there in the authoritative and strong man's body. Draco followed Ron with his eyes as he walked to the bathroom. Ron paused at the door, turning slightly he muttered. "Your burden is called Leo."


End file.
